Only Heart
by portmanroxsmysoxs
Summary: Julie recovers from an... altercation with Dean one dark November night. JulieDean, read and review!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own the Mighty Ducks :O

A/N: Hey guys! Long time, no Mighty Ducks fanfiction. It's Spring Break for me right now, so I figure why not? I may make this into a multiple-chapter fiasco, if you guys like it. :)

* * *

It was a mistake. _It was just a mistake_, I think angrily, searing the words into my brain. _Just a stupid mistake._

Honestly, it was a mistake. It was supposed to be nothing – a quick bite to eat – between friends. It was never supposed to be… _this._

As the wind brushes past me, it snakes into my hair and around my neck, invading under my shirt and assaulting my legs. It's like having him around me again, his hands cupped around my face and his weight pressed against my body. I can feel his fingers on the back of my neck, dancing down my shirt. The palms of his hands are warm on my belly. Then, the wind is gone and all I have left are the tingling of sensations from minutes before. I shudder, feeling it in my spine, and walk faster.

I sigh, flushed and edgy, as I walk quickly down the damp sidewalks outside of Eden Hall. It's past eleven and I have a good chance of getting caught by security and getting a detention, but I can't stand being inside. I can't stand walking the same halls as him, I can't even fathom breathing the same, stale air as him right now. My walk turns into a jog and I'm passing the main buildings, flying past the teacher's lot, practically lifting off when I pass the hockey rink.

"Julie." I swear his voice is real, whispering in my ear. I turn abruptly and find nothing but a black November sky.

I hear him groan and it echoes through my brain. I can't breathe when I hear my name in the back of his throat again. I resign myself to the benches outside the hockey rink. My head is in my hands and my chest is heaving. It's freezing and I have nothing more than jeans and a shirt.

I have to go back, I have to sleep, I have to move on.

---

I never noticed how many stairs were in the four stairwells leading up to the room I share with Connie. My legs ache with each one, the cold still infecting them. I shiver and shake as I climb. Smiling when I reach our door, I unlock it, expecting the room will be dark. Connie likes to go to bed early and only allows me to turn on a single desk lamp to study late.

Tonight, I'm not so lucky. Connie is sitting at her desk, watching the small television Guy bought for her a couple of months back. My first thought it why she's not out on a date tonight – it is Friday, after all – and then Connie is on me.

"Why're you so late?" she asks, smiling. "I thought you and Portman were just going out for pizza with Fulton."

My heart beats abnormally hard inside my chest – like it physically wants out of my body – and my head starts to spin. Just his _name _freaks me out.

"Fulton bailed," I choke, crossing the room and hoping to God Connie doesn't notice the blush creeping up my neck. I'm burning up inside, now.

"So? That doesn't explain breaking curfew." Connie is smiling and teasing me, I can tell without even looking at her.

I throw myself on my bed, sinking into my comforter. It smothers me and I am reminded of his mouth over mine, breathing in and out rhythmically together. I can feel the weight of chest against mine, his fingers in my hair.I jerk suddenly and stare at the ceiling.

"Jules?" Connie is coming closer. "What's wrong? You and Portman get in a fight or something?"

_If only, _it pains me to think.

"No," I mumble, "I'm just tired." I'm thankful that the coldness of the night hides the shake in my limbs. I face the wall now, praying myself to fall asleep in the next few seconds, but Connie will have none of it.

I can feel her weight on the side of my bed. Her hand is on my leg, patting it comfortingly. "So what'd you do tonight?" her voice is softer. She knows it has something to do with Dean.

"You know," my voice is clipped and ragged, "we went to that pizza place a couple of blocks downtown. Walked around for a little while. Came back and hung out – played cards."

I leave out the last part of the story, for fear I may start crying if I begin. It wasn't a bad thing that happened; it was just unexpected and too fast for me.

Connie can't come outright and call me a liar – I'm her best friend, only second to Guy. Friends do not call friends liars. Instead, she pats my leg again. "Sounds like fun."

"Yep," I almost say before she has a chance to stop. "I'm beat."

Nothing in my story suggests that I should be tired right now and Connie knows it. She stands, goes back to the desk, hums to herself while her pen scratches against paper. "See you in the morning, Jules," her voice is still soft.

I flop around on my bed until I am under the comforter, my head buried in the pillow, and my vision receding to the blackness at the corners of my eyes.

-

"Julie," his voice is deep and low and unsteady. We're outside of his room – he volunteered to walk me to my dorm, seeing as how curfew is in a couple of minutes and its dark. His hand leaves the comfort of my own and suddenly, he is in front of me, blocking my path to the stairs. We've barely made it out of his room.

I look up at him, towering over me. My voice comes out in a whisper. "What?"

His large fingers creep swiftly around the back of my neck. They bring me up to his face and suddenly our lips crash together. It's a release, though I'm shaking. I wrap my arms around him and he pushes me against the wall next to the door. His hands cup my face and I slide my tongue into his open mouth.

We are in his room, kissing with such ferocity I can't believe it's actually happening. Dean presses me against the wall next to his bed. I feel the weight of chest against mine, his hips against mine, his lips against mine. My hands slide around his neck – feeling out ears and hair and a strong jaw line. His warm, rough hands are playing with the exposed skin between my shirt and jeans. A burning sensation erupts in my stomach and my knees lock, unable to move. His hands climb further upward, tracing the under wire of my bra uncertainly.

I have lost myself. The regular Julie isn't here in this moment. It's someone foreign and much more dangerous than me. Someone who Dean enjoys very much. There is a buzzing in my brain – like white noise that grows softer to the sound of heavy breathing and the small noises that get trapped in our throats. It's what I've always wanted, but I'm not the one experiencing it.

Dean's shirt slips over his head and drops to the floor soundlessly. His chest is tan and broad and warm. I kiss it as he works on the clasp of my bra. Even with my shirt still on, Dean slides his hands over my breasts and I shudder, pressing myself closer to him. His fingers make my skin melt and I am completely lost.

I find myself the moment I hear the zipper on his jeans. My eyes open to watch Dean deftly unbutton the top of his pants. I slip away from him when his hands turn to my own.

"Julie?" his voice is strangled, raw. His eyes are wide, but tired. His hand stretches out to me, the other keeping the top of his jeans together. I see his erection and I feel my stomach sink.

"I can't do this."

Then, I am gone.

-

I am unable to sleep tonight. I lay awake, too scared to close my eyes. The scene keeps replaying in my head like a bad movie. My body moves and jerks with phantom sensations in my bed, twisting the covers uncomfortably around my body.

_It was a mistake,_ _just a stupid mistake. _

Only, I can't decide which part I screwed up – allowing Dean to kiss me, or letting myself leave.

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A/N: Didja like it? I love Julie/Dean fics, because they're the greatest couple. Anyway, please read and review! I would love some feedback.

Kate


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I still don't own the Mighty Ducks.

And so this fiasco begins.

* * *

Dean wakes up early, bangs the door closed loud enough to wake Fulton and barrels his way down to the gym in the next building. He spends all his time there, besides the rink and classroom. It calms him down and keeps him in shape, so no one – especially Orion – complains.

He doesn't bother to warm up, doesn't care if his muscles tear, looks forward to the burn it delivers. He grabs the weights for an hour. Bench presses follow for anothe.r Then he runs until his legs give out. Dean has to sit in the locker room for twenty minutes just to shakily make his way outside. He grits his teeth as he straightens to pass by the guy sitting at the front desk – if he notices something in then Dean might get banned from gym use for a week and that's not something anyone wants.

Dean sits at a bench in front of the hockey arena, wishing we had practice on Sundays. Anything to get his mind off of last night.

-

Connie drags me to the cafeteria for a late breakfast with Guy, Dwayne, and Russ. We sit, our trays in hand, and I find that conversation comes easily. At first I sat, picking at my food, _sure _that they could read the events of last night on my face.

If they do, no one says a thing about it.

Dwayne laughs at some lame joke of Russ' and Connie chatters excitedly with Guy about their plans later in the afternoon. There's not much to do on Sunday, but they always find somewhere for a date. Russ says something about going to study with Goldberg – _yeah right_, we're thinking to ourselves with a smirk – and leaves.

"You want to go?" Dwayne's southern twang echoes in my ears, snapping me out of my current daydream.

"Where?" I ask, smoothing my hair behind my ears.

Dwayne grins toothily; he's such a good guy. "To the rink, duh."

I nod, and we leave together. I know Dean will probably be in the gym which isn't even in the same building at the ice rink. It'll also win us brownie points with Orion, considering we don't have practice until the middle of next week. Dean stops by his room, slips on his pads, and soon he is opening the rink doors.

We go in the separate locker rooms and surprisingly, no one else is here. I think, anyway, until I reach the plastic barrier between the stands and the ice. I hear the swift, sharp sound of metal sweeping across something equally as hard. I hear the puck and stick meet. I breathe and the frigid air invades my lungs. It clutches at my chest as I see Dean skating around, beating the ice with his stick.

He turns and our eyes connect for a flash. His anger and hurt seems to flow through the empty air and into my head in a second and I am struck by his emotions. I lean back on my skates and my head bows. I feel sick again, ready to collapse under all my gear.

Dwayne crashes through the men's locker room. "Ready to go, Jules?" Suddenly his warm, happy voice seems harsh and abrasive.

Dean stops skating and watches the scene play out in front of him. My ears are ringing and I watch Dwayne's lips move, his eyes wander, and his face shutter with curiosity. He moves to take the ice and leaves the gate open for me.

"Come on, Jules," his voice gives me a headache, "get over here."

I swallow and my eyes are on the ice as I skate over to join Dwayne. He skates once, twice, three times around the perimeter of the rink before realizing that neither Dean nor I are moving, speaking, breathing.

I manage to look up from the lines my skates are creating in the ice and see Dean staring at me. Another flash, only now I think he's feeling my awkwardness and apprehension. I blink and suddenly, he's behind me and heading for the men's room. The only thing I have left is his hockey stick clattering to the ground.

I whip my head around and watch him go. I'm struck with a pang of hurt and I say to Dwayne, "Hold on a sec."

Dean throws his shin guards into a locker across from the bench in the middle of the room. He shrugs off his shoulder pads and lets them bang against the concrete floor. His face is burning an angry red. I'm frightened and stay against the wall. My heart is already pounding knowing I'm somewhere I shouldn't be, and Dean is _not_ helping.

"Dean," I begin meekly, not knowing where my regular stuck-up self is. I could really use her right now.

Dean spins around with such intensity I think he's going to fall down. His hair is damp with sweat and sticks diagonally to his pink forehead, little wet ribbons dripping down his cheeks and chin and chest. I can see his teeth grit together with a jumble of words he wants to spit out, but can't figure out which order to put them in. I can relate.

He decides not to say anything, but instead stands and watches and his eyebrows are knit together like they've been glued.

I swallow and my eyes are on my wet skates again. "Dean…" I begin again, unsure of my words.

"What."

I want him to forget all this – forget last night ever happened. I want to go back to being Julie and Portman, friends, team mates, nothing else.

A pang interrupts my thoughts. It comes from my heart and sends uncomfortable little shock waves through the rest of my body and I can feel the remnants of them in my fingertips.

I don't know what I want – do I? I wanted to kiss him last night, I wanted him to want me. I still want him to. There are so many things I want I can't stand to list them all.

"_What?_"

Dean's voice still retains its sharp edge, but I can see that his eyes soften under his bushy, black eyebrows. I stare at him, my mouth open very attractively. His eyebrows raise in an annoyed fashion.

"Julie – what the hell do you want? Didn't you get everything last night?"

Dean's words sting like tiny bees, buzzing in my ears. I can't believe I'm here.

"You can't even stand to speak to me, can you?" Dean scoffs. He tears off his thigh pads and stomps out of them, continuing. "Just took everything last night and now you're done. To think I actually thought…" he laughs cruelly, "never mind, doesn't matter now, does it? God _damn_, I thought that maybe…"

"_I just want you!"_

All I can think of his running my hands through his thick, black hair again. To feel his lips against the soft skin on my neck. To feel his weight on mine. All I want…

I turn and exit the room quickly, throwing off my own gear as tears stream down my burning face. For wanting him so much, I certainly am _not _doing a good job of showing it.

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A/N: Thanks to you guys who left comments - I really appreciated them! Reviews are more than welcome. Goodnight!


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